


Carry On, Penny

by Horacia



Category: Jeeves & Wooster, Jeeves - P. G. Wodehouse
Genre: Gen, i tagged it as jeeves/oc but it is a platonic relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:08:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24364081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Horacia/pseuds/Horacia
Summary: Alternate Title: Everyone Needs a JeevesIn the year 2020, Penelope Popplewell has found herself at the end of her rope. She has lost her scholarship, lost her job, and is now living on her Aunt Eudora's allowance, provided that she follows said aunt's every whim. She needs to get back on her feet. If only she had a capable adult willing to finish the job of parenting her.
Relationships: Reginald Jeeves/Other(s), jeeves/original character, reginald jeeves/oc, reginald jeeves/original character
Kudos: 3





	1. I Don't Think I'm Going Too Far When I Say This Just About Takes The Giddy Biscuit

_Wastrel,_ I thought.

The word made me think of a red-nosed, staggering drunk from the ambiguous olden times. I supposed the description fit me well enough. Some might have argued that I had always been one. My parents had effectively bought me my job, and my scholarship. This was a fact that the self-satisfied higher up at the company had been all too happy to emphasize when I was downsized. Like, I got where he was coming from. ‘Eat the rich,’ and all that. I would have liked to point out that I had only accepted the job because I was terrified of becoming what I now was.

The scholarship had fallen through shortly before the job had. I had been holding a lot of plates by my fingertips, spasmed as they’d dropped, seen the cracked porcelain, and just walked away. I’d had another crisis at the thought of going to my parents. They had already kicked me to the curb once. Well, not kicked so much as shooed. However, before I could talk to them, or psych myself up to gain an intimate acquaintance with the front of some train, the rumor mill reached my aunt Eudora. She would come through, with some conditions. I was now living on her allowance, or the rich girl equivalent of living in your parents’ basement. Now, back to being slobbering drunk.

“ _Everybody knows shit’s_

 _Fucked!_ ”

Those were the lyrics pounding from the bar’s speakers currently. The song was a request of mine. A millennial anthem. Was I still a millennial?

 _Yes, Penny, you are_ , I thought. _Aging does not change your birth year._

I didn’t think I’d ever been this drunk before. I seemed to be drunk enough to have the other dancers glancing at me with disgust, and the staff members looking at me with a mixture of pity and concern. They were probably thinking things like-

_Am I going to have to call someone for this woman? Does she have friends?_

Unfortunately, I was _not_ drunk enough to miss Lavender and Indigo heading my way. My cousins. They were dressed sleekly and stylishly, and they’d dyed the family dirty-blonde hair platinum. They looked so similar, and shared so many secret looks that one could not help but think of words like ‘fawning.’ There was a lot of fawning involved.

“Oh, Penelope,” said Lavender, with barely restrained amusement. “I’ve never seen anyone dance so awfully _excitedly_.”

“Lavender, I think I may be sick on you,” I said, conspiratorially.

Lavender took a hasty step back, but Indigo just smirked, knowing what I was doing.

“Go right ahead,” said Indigo, “It’ll give her an excuse to rethink that exhausted top.”

“Now, Indigo, you said you found this top positively animated.”

“I did, Lavender, and I found it just as charming when you wore it last week- Now, where are _you_ going?”

She’d grabbed me- Actually _grabbed_ me on her merry little ‘ _you_ ’ as I’d tried to escape during their spat. I wanted to rip my arm out of her grasp.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” I said, frankly, although my slurring probably made me sound more helpless than straightforward.

“I’m sure,” said Indigo, “but I simply must take advantage of this opportunity. Why, we imagined we were going to have to hunt you down, before fate tossed you into our paths! I’ve got news for you, cuz. Our _generous_ Aunt Eudora wants to have you over for tea tomorrow-”

Here she patted my arm with her hand which dripped with diamonds.

“-at six a.m. sharp!”

Getting up that early made your brain rot.

“Why not.” I said.

And then, to both Indigo’s and my surprise, I _was_ sick on her. She jumped back, so it missed her shirt, but did not miss her wrist, which was still operating the hand gripping my arm.


	2. Aunt Eudora

“-cavorting about in a bar alone.”

I tuned in at those words, lifting my head from the embroidered couch. I had been sitting with a throbbing headache, and nursing a cup of bitter tea when she said this. Was this concern?

“With companions, you might have at least appeared to be there for a meeting, but alone your sordid intentions were clear,” snapped Aunt Eudora.

I leaned back against the couch. Aunt Eudora was an elderly woman with long, white hair in a bun, a heavy, purple dress which was buttoned tight around her hanging neck, and permanent frown lines in the sides of her cheeks.

“My intentions weren’t any worse than Indigo and Lavender’s.” I said, lightly.

“Don’t interrupt, Penelope!” she said. “And sit up straight. How can you expect anyone to employ you when you insist on turning your spine into a pre-compressed helical spring toy? Do you have any concept of how absolutely dismal your prospects are?”

_That’s why I was at the bar-_

“It’s clear those fool parents of yours showered you with too much attention, and now you haven’t the slightest idea what to do without it. You must apply yourself to finding some means of employment by the end of the month, if you insist on living by your means and not your inheritance. Too long without a job will make employers rightfully suspect you- Sit up _straight_ , Penelope!”

I roused myself from my half-sleeping state.

“Sorry, Aunt Eudora.” I said, numbly.

She glared at me, before continuing, “To secure a position, you will need to learn how to present yourself as an organized, capable, mature member of society. It is clear this is a feat too insurmountable for you to accomplish on your own. I cannot be there to nanny you every second of the day.”

“You’re right, you’re right.” I said. “I’ll shape up on my own-”

“And therefore, I have appointed someone else to nanny you for me.” she continued, as if I hadn’t spoken.

“Sorry?” I said.

“For what?” she demanded. “Don’t quibble, girl!”

“Did you say you assigned me a nanny?” I asked.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

I felt relieved. It must have been my hungover brain that had mistaken the words-

“It was obviously a figure of speech,” she continued. “I have appointed you a personal butler.”

A butler. Someone in my apartment, seeing how I lived. The thought was horrifying.

“Oh, Aunt Eudora, that won’t be necessary-” I started.

“Don’t make such a fuss, Penelope. He is already there, and he is only employed for a month, anyway. I won’t hear any more about it.”

I was about to protest further when I realized she was right. The upper crust did not like to listen, but everyone I had met in the service industry happened to be kind, overworked, decent people. She may not listen, but this mysterious ‘he’ likely would.

“Yes, Aunt Eudora.” I said, obediently.


	3. Jeeves

Before I could explain the situation with my Aunt Eudora, I’d have to deal with another person in my apartment. The person who was, doubtless, already _in_ my apartment. My college companions had found it weird that I took any excuse to people coming back to my room, seeing as I had grown up with a full staff looking over me, but the moment I’d learned that privacy was a thing I’d never wanted to go back. Not to mention that on the best of days I only had the energy to do what had to be done, and on the worst of days I didn’t have energy to do much at all, both of which meant my space was a dumpster fire. Trash piled on top of the trash can and then heaped around it. Clothes similarly piled on the laundry basket before trailing onto the floor. Various soda receptacles strewn in places I wouldn’t have to look at them. Whatever. It would be a bit of awkwardness, and then I would never have to see this person again. This _Jeeves_ , as my aunt had called him.

I approached my apartment door, and was surprised to find it still locked. My aunt had informed me she’d already slipped him a key. It was empty, too, but mere moments after I’d shut the door, there was a knock on it. Ah. He _had_ arrived before me, but he’d had the decency not to enter my residence without permission.

I peered through the key-hole. He looked like the description alright. Tall, somewhat hefty, dark hair, early forties, and a suit. His posture was somehow perfectly straight but unassuming at the same time, and he was carrying a small, sleek case. I opened the door, and pointed at him, beginning to speak, before remembering that for safety reasons I should wait until he gave his own name and see if it matched the one I knew.

He hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Popplewell,” he said, “I was sent by a Ms. Eudora Popplewell. My name is Jeeves.”

“Perfect.” I said. “Ow.”

I winced, and put a hand over my face. My headache and disorientation were getting worse.

“Um… I gotta… There’s some things I should explain.” I said, trying to get back on track to the mini speech I’d prepared.

“Was last night a hard one, Ms. Popplewell?”

_You could say that._

“Um… yes.” I said. “Sorry, could I just… Sorry, you better come in.”

I turned back towards the front room.

“Sorry about the-” I said, and gestured around the place, vaguely.

“Not at all, Miss. If you don’t mind, I’ll acquaint myself with the kitchen.”

“Acquaint away, Jeeves.” I said, sinking into my couch, which was significantly more dented and less embroidered than my aunt’s.

I rubbed at my temples while he flitted about, trying to get myself into a place where I could speak straight for long enough to tell this nice man in some acceptable terms that he was out of the job. When I opened my eyes, I had to blink them several times. Had I fallen asleep, as my body had been threatening to do back at my aunt’s? I’d have sworn I hadn’t, but all of the scattered empty soda receptacles had vanished, and the cushions had moved back from the floor to the love-seat. I was both impressed, and horrified that he’d felt like he’d had to do that. I turned my head to survey the rest of the room, and jumped to see Jeeves there. He was extraordinarily quiet.

“Shit.” I said, intellectually.

“My apologies, madam.” he said. “I wondered if you might be interested in something to address the headache. It’s a little restorative that I’ve had in practice for years. I’ve been told it can do wonders following a late night.”

I looked at the vague brown and reddish liquid that he was presenting to me from one of my own glasses, on one of my own saucers, both of which were miraculously clean. Before I could reason myself into sensible considerations like not accepting drinks from near strangers, I’d downed the whole thing. It gave an effect similar to a soda in that it filled your stomach, but not similar to a soda in the fact that a moment later my droopy eyes had gone wide. Isn’t that what coffee did? I wouldn’t know. I never touch the stuff.

“Well, that was certainly an adventure.” I said, then widened my eyes again when I realized I hadn’t tripped over a single word of that sentence.

“Jeeves- Sorry, _Mr._ Jeeves- What on earth is-”

Before I had finished the sentence, I saw something in his expression that made me pause.

“Oh, that’s one of those ‘can’t-tell-you-cause-you-might-sell-the-recipe’ things, isn’t it?” I said.

There was the slightest crinkle of his eyes, and I got the impression that he considered my summation a bit crass, but he nodded.

“Indeed, madam.” he said, pleasantly.

“Well, Mr. Jeeves-”

And here he gave me a mystified look as I took the glass and saucer from them, and transported them to the kitchen myself.

“-I am now in a right enough mood to tell you the whole sordid tale, so that’s wonderful,” I said, as I deposited both into the sink. “Here’s the thing.”

I found myself suddenly washing the two dishes as I spoke.

“I am currently living on my Aunt Eudora’s good graces,” I said, “As you likely already know, that means my threshold is pretty thin. She’s decided that to get myself a job, I need someone helping me learn how to dress myself again. However, after a slog of embarrassing childhood memories that revealed just how stuck-up I’d been towards our staff, I am in no hurry to ever have a housekeep again for even the chance that I might mistreat them. Unfortunately, Jeeves- _Mr_. Jeeves- it means you are out of a job.”

I jumped, slightly, as a hand appeared beside me. I offered it the glass, and Jeeves started the task of drying.

“If I may be so bold, I guessed that such a situation might be the case, madam.” said Jeeves. “I might mention that I have already been paid by Ms. Eudora Popplewell for a month of my services. She seemed quite indifferent at the idea of whether or not this month might be extended. Might I suggest that we appease the lady’s wishes for now? Then, when Ms. Popplewell inevitably checks in, she will see that all is going according to her plan, and the situation will remain temporary.”

Despite the invigorating drink, it was hard not to feel sleepy again. Although his speech was full of clarifiers, there was something in his tone that convinced me that he had everything well in hand, which was extraordinarily soothing. Not to mention that the act of washing dishes with him slowed down my knee-jerk rejection, and made me think living alongside another person might possibly be tolerable.

Still. He was used to watching over big houses, and people who had their lives together. He couldn’t possibly know what he was getting into.

“Jeeves, come on,” I said, plainly. “You’ve seen the place. It only gets worse from here. Do you really want to do this?”

“I have had a variety of employers, madam,” he said, introspectively, “It often takes a week to get a firm grasp on what sort of employer they will be. However, for some, it takes but a moment. If you would be interested in my services, I think I could be useful.”

I nodded, with the same ‘what the hell’ attitude that had prompted me to accept the glass in the first place.

“If at any point, you want to leave, feel free.” I said, “In fact, if at any point you want to take a day off, feel free! In fact-”

“I understand, madam. Now, if you’ll permit the liberty, perhaps I could restock the fridge while you avail yourself of some proper rest.”

My chin moved in a circle as I tried to resist the suggestion to be polite, but the movement itself nearly disorientated me.

“Yeah, I think you’re right,” I said, “Thank you, Jeeves.”

I passed out on my bed a moment later.


	4. Penny vs the Existential Dread

It had been a week. It was remarkably easy to get comfortable with Jeeves. This probably had something to do with the fact that it was _all-encompassing-ly emotionally relieving._ With my friends gone, my parents’ staff gone, and my parents themselves gone (neglectful as they were), I’d not only been filled with guilt and anxiety, but a soul crushing loneliness. I didn’t know how to meet people, and couldn’t afford outings. It had been hard not to look at my trash-strewn apartment that still felt unfamiliar, and not think dark thoughts. I knew that I shouldn’t allow myself to depend on Jeeves, as he wouldn’t be there forever. Still, at his presence, my mental health seemed to scream, _Thank god, the world isn’t ending!_

Aside from that, it was also easier to adjust to someone knowing how I lived than I’d thought it would be. At least, initially. Later, I would wonder if the cunning little bastard just knew when the pick his battles, and none of them were going to be in week one.

“Madam?”

“Mmm?” I said, over a spoonful of cereal.

Wait, that was rude. Well, not rude, but not refined, which was a concern Jeeves was subtly inserting in my day to day life. I swallowed, and removed the spoon.

“Sorry, Jeeves,” I said, “What’s up, broski?”

“A position has opened up at the book shop down the street,” he said, handing me a newspaper. “It appears to be that of a desk clerk.”

Internally, I laughed. That sounded like exactly the sort of job I’d be interested in, so there seemed little point in trying as fate would be determined not to let me have it.

“I have a sneaking suspicion that our Aunt Eudora isn’t going to accept anything that she didn’t think of herself.” I said, looking over the paper.

He nodded.

“I had a similar suspicion, madam,” he said. “and so, I took the liberty of-”

“You’re taking so many liberties recently that you might as well be American,” I interjected, teasingly.

Jeeves looked mortified, and I quickly lifted an appeasing hand.

“I am so sorry, Jeeves, I take it back,” I said, “It’s a very efficient phrase, it gets your point across perfectly. Please continue.”

After gathering himself, he did so.

“I have informed her ladyship’s maid of our predicament,” he said, “I believe, before the day is out, she will have presented the opening to your aunt in a way that will cause her to think that the idea was her own.”

“Fuck, that’s sneaky.” I said, admiringly.

Jeeves looked pleased with himself. I appeared to have been forgiven for my previous ‘American’ comment.

“I just- I know I need to get a move on, Jeeves, but I’m not sure I’m ready.” I said.

“Why don’t I clear our calendar?” he began.

I chortled.

“Sorry, madam?”

“Oh, sorry,” I said, “I thought you were making a joke, because I don’t have a schedule to clear. Go on.”

“If you ultimately decide not to try out for the position, I can always call the shop, and say you were unavailable.”

“Absolutely.”

I said this knowing I’d have to interview for the job regardless. I couldn’t afford to turn down the opportunity.

“Speaking of our schedule, a Miss Margaret Pingan seems to have presented us with an invitation to play… Lava Ground.”

He squinted at the paper he was holding in his hand, which he’d doubtlessly printed from an electronic invitation.

“Shall I procure us some directions?” he asked.

“Oh, no thanks, Jeeves.” I said. “I haven’t seen Penguin since college. We wouldn’t have anything to talk about.”

“Perhaps you could make some memories to discuss in future.”

“I barely remember how the game goes, Jeeves.”

“It would be quite easy, madam. As you mentioned, there is nothing on the schedule, and the socialization might make for a nice build up to any future job interviews. I’ve laid out a simple yet suitable outfit for the occasion. If you could just tell me whether or not it would be comfortable-”

I was already heading for my bedroom, my body listening to the tone rather than the words. It was a tone that always preceded us leaving. Halfway down the hall, I stopped.

 _Jeeves, you little… spider,_ I thought, without any venom.

He didn’t know the whole story. He didn’t know what I’d be walking into. Was I really going to go through with this?

 _Jeeves won’t be here forever, and you know what you’ll be returning to once he’s gone,_ I thought. _You could at least give the others a shot._


	5. Driving with Jeeves

“Will you be driving, madam?” he asked.

I inhaled a little too long.

“Very good, madam.” he said.

I deposited myself in the passenger’s side. Ever since the wreck I’d had on the way to work, I’d been terrified of driving. It didn’t help that I’d already been squeamish about it to begin with. Moving in huge, steel contraptions at hundreds of miles per hour. Who’d come up with that? As the car moved, Jeeves blithely and politely gave tips and tricks, such as how left hand turns were less intimidating than they seemed, and how fellow drivers utilizing their horns rarely meant danger, and rather conveyed fervent emotion.

“If I may ask, how long as it been since you have seen Ms. Pingan, madam?” he asked.

“Ah, around Christmas,” I said, “She came to check in with me after my-”

_-breakdown-_

“-exit from college.”

“Have you attempted to contact her since?”

“Alright, I can hear what you’re thinking, Jeeves, and here’s the thing. Here’s the thing. I’m gonna tell you the thing, and here it is. Basically, she saw, um… my state post collegiate exit. It was similar to what you saw when you arrived, only I was even less hygienic. I made some excuse to get her out of the place, and she’s never contacted me since. I don’t think I left the best impression.”

“You asked her to leave, madam?”

“More or less.”

“Is it possible she has not been avoiding you, but has been waiting for you to contact her when you’re ready?”

“You see, those are the sort of thoughts that are reserved for confident people,” I said, smiling. “You’ve come to the wrong Popplewell.”

“The situation is not entirely foreign to me, madam.”

“What, you nearly threw up on your friend, causing the mere thought of looking them in the eye again to send you into a bout of anxiety?”

“Not as such, but I _have_ accidentally alienated those who might have been compatriots. With my peers, my advice can be somewhat… unchecked. It has made the occasional companion think I was no longer interested in their discourse.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, buddy. And how did you get past it?”

“What? Oh, I haven’t seen them for nine months. I believe we have arrived, madam.”

We’d pulled into a restaurant with the unfortunate name, ‘The Shake and Rake.’

“You get a milkshake, and then they make you do yard-work?” I guessed.

“I believe the nickname came from a popular dance maneuver known in the owner’s childhood,” said Jeeves.

“Oh, shit,” I said, “Sorry, I’ve gotten so used to having you here that I didn’t even think. You’re gonna be really bored, watching me try and awkwardly make conversation with a bunch of college chums. Do you wanna head home, and I’ll just get a cab later?”

“If you would rather me not attend, of course, madam,” he said, “but I am not at all opposed to the evening. Perhaps you have not had a personal assistant before, but it often entails accompanying my charges to a variety of places.”

“Charges?” I said, with a smile.

The term was more suited towards a nanny’s responsibilities than a butler’s.

“Employers, I mean, of course.”

 _Of course._ I loved this little shit.

“I’m not gonna make you eat anything.”

“Thank you, madam.”


End file.
